


Cold As Ice

by Morpheus626



Category: Mr. Robot (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:27:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25044631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morpheus626/pseuds/Morpheus626
Summary: Carrying over my synopsis from my Tumblr post of this: I was messing about a few days ago with some prompt lists and managed to get a few done, this being one of them! The prompt was: trying to walk on ice.I didn’t necessarily intend for it to go a bit sad, but with Elliot lately somehow that’s just the turn my fic has taken :( But I’m going to write some happy times for him soon.In the meantime, I have this! Set…idk. Not really in any particular season, more like a snapshot AU sort of thing I guess because idk where you’d shove it within canon lol.
Kudos: 2





	Cold As Ice

“Are you trying to get caught?” 

“Yes, of course I am, as much as possible,” Elliot spat back as he fumbled and slipped on the icy sidewalk. The upside to the evening? He’d gotten (rather, stolen) the drive he needed. The downside? The supposedly nonexistent security team at the building were in fact, existing, and were bearing down him as an ice storm pelted the city. 

“It’s just ice, c’mon,” Mr. Robot scoffed. 

“You think I’m doing this for fun?” Elliot replied, exasperated as he slipped yet again and landed square on his back. “Falling down every five minutes, nowhere to hide…be lucky if I don’t get hurt.” 

“I’m just saying that if you’re careful-” 

“I hear you, ‘just saying.’ Not saying anything useful right now,” Elliot grumbled as he skid down an alley.

“Someone’s in a mood,” Mr. Robot sighed. “Here’s something useful: that fire escape. No idea if someone’s already there, with that tarp over it, but if you move fast-” 

He moved as fast as he could towards it, ignoring Mr. Robot’s scoffing and whining as he struggled to climb up the icy metal ladder. Luckily, there was no one else there, and while he had no clue why they’d want to try and cover the bit of the fire escape landing near their window, he was grateful that the apartment owner had. 

There was only one guard who had kept up the chase, slipping and falling onto the ice as he tried to stop and go into the alley. He seemed utterly fed up, muttering and grumbling as he worked to stay upright on the slick ground. “Forget this. They don’t pay me enough to be out here in this dreck.” 

“You got lucky. If that asshole wasn’t so lazy…we should have planned. Should have expected something to happen” Mr. Robot shook his head as they huddled under the tarp. The rain/sleet had increased, the sound of the falling ice pelting the thick material. 

“Y’know, if you wanna keep making smart comments, why don’t you make one about how we’re gonna get home with this storm,” Elliot sighed. 

“We…I…Elliot, I don’t control the weather!” 

Mr. Robot sounded just as frustrated as he was, and though he knew it shouldn’t make him happy, it did. If they had to be stuck there, miserable, then they’d be miserable together. 

“Window’s open,” Mr. Robot motioned towards it, open just big enough that someone could slide in or out of it if they held their breath. “Must be stuck or something. Explains this little set up.” 

“…Are you suggesting I crawl in there?” 

“Can’t make it home right now, unless you intend on sliding there. Kind of cold out here, and might not be much warmer in there, but anything is better than sitting here.” 

Elliot smirked. “And what should I say when I get in? ‘Sorry, can’t make it home in this weather, you understand why I’m casually breaking in via your fire escape.’ That’ll go over well.” 

“I could do the talking,” Mr. Robot said. “C’mon. You really wanna stay out here, freezing?” 

Elliot shook his head. He didn’t want to stay out, but he didn’t relish the idea of the police being called because he was literally crawling into someone’s home. But his hands were sticking to the icy bits of the metal on the escape, and maybe there wouldn’t be anyone home…

The living room he tumbled into was dark, and seemed empty, as did the rest of the apartment. In fact, it seemed no one had been there for some time. 

“Eugh,” Mr. Robot frowned, and pointed to the darkest corner of the living room. “Well, we don’t have to worry about disturbing anyone.” 

In that corner, in an armchair, were the remnants of what must have been the apartment’s owner. 

His stomach flipped at the sight, but he fought to ignore it. “We have to go, this should be reported-” 

“And how are you gonna say you found this guy, exactly? Just admit to breaking in briefly?” Mr. Robot asked. 

“That was your idea! There’s anonymous tip lines anyway, and-” 

“Yeah, because that’s always truly anonymous and safe,” Mr. Robot interrupted. 

“I’ll find some way to let them know. I can’t not report this,” Elliot replied, his voice low and harsh. “This could be me someday, no one knowing I’m dead, rotting in my apartment for weeks on end like this poor fucker! If it was me, I’d want it reported.” 

“Darlene would come looking for you. You know that.” 

“Shut up.” 

“What? You really think she wouldn’t? You know she would, she’d be looking for you after a day or two at the most. Don’t be so dramatic,” Mr. Robot rolled his eyes. 

“Just be quiet,” Elliot sighed as he slumped against the wall near the open window, the wind and ice howling. “We’re gonna get home as soon as this shit quits, finish what needs finishing, and report this, and then you won’t have any goddamn reason to complain for awhile.” 

It was such an easy thing to envision. His apartment this dark and filthy, his body rotting on his couch, unable to hear the sound of Darlene’s fists thudding against his front door, her voice muffled as she begged him to open up. 

He let the tears fall while Mr. Robot stood, waiting him and the storm out. 

Finally, a few hours later, the rain had ceased, and he was able to slowly creep home, slipping and sliding more than he wanted, earning bruises when he fell that would take weeks to fade. 

The feelings the night had dredged up started to fade too, until the news report a week later. 

The police had finally investigated his tip, and now it had made the local news, stirring up and worrying the other elderly who’d lived in the building with the man. Interviews with them talking about the state of elder care in the city, and how easy it would be for the same to happen to any one of them. 

The interview with the man’s sister was the hardest to watch. Her brother, 64, had early onset dementia and Parkinson’s, but had insisted on staying in his apartment and living on his own when he saw the cost of moving to a care home. His sister talked about how she’d always tried to visit once a week, but had been ill herself for nearly a month and so hadn’t made it out to him. She wept on camera, how she felt like a bad sister, how she should have left the hospital herself to come and check on him, and maybe he’d still be alive. 

Elliot turned it all off at that, and called Darlene. She was probably just fine, but…

He saw what taking that risk looked like now. He didn’t like it. 

And it would just be good to hear her voice again.


End file.
